


The First Blast of the Trumpet

by qwanderer



Series: My Dear Doctor [3]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M, Mary Russell Mysteries, Post-Episode: s03e02 The Search Part Two, Trope Inversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 20:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14601078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwanderer/pseuds/qwanderer
Summary: in which Garak realizes something that, in hindsight, should have been obvious.





	The First Blast of the Trumpet

**Author's Note:**

> Moderate spoilers for The Beekeeper's Apprentice and A Monstrous Regiment of Women by Laurie R. King. It's all emotional stuff, it doesn't spoil the mysteries of the mystery novels and the books aren't necessary to understand the fics, so proceed with that in mind.
> 
> It seemed weird to continue the theme of naming the fic after the work it takes quotes from in this particular case, since the fic isn't about gender stuff or women particularly. So instead I took the title for this fic from the other part of the same book title that King took _hers_ from: The First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Regiment of Women, by John Knox.
> 
> This was partially inspired by the Garashir trope of Julian reading a Cardassian romance and not realizing it was a romance. I kinda wanted to turn the tables.

_"Go on, Russell, you may as well ask your question; you've spent seven hours in getting here. Or perhaps I ought to say, six years?"_

_"What on earth are you talking about?" I was very cross at the threat of having my nice evening spoilt by his sardonic, all-knowing air, though God knows, I should have been used to it by then._

\- _A Monstrous Regiment of Women_ , Laurie R. King 

* * *

The whole station was abuzz about the run-in with the Jem'Hadar in the Gamma Quadrant, and the Federation's new ship, the Defiant. Sending the little warship out to poke around the potential hornet's nest of a situation may have been the sensible route. 

Garak didn't like it, but he wasn't sure whether it was simply the kind of strategy better left to those who were more warriors than spies, or if there was actually something about what he'd managed to gather about the situation that was making his instincts prickle. 

More worryingly, he wasn't sure whether he would have felt the same reaction if Julian hadn't been on the ship. 

When the Defiant failed to check in on time, Garak knew that it wasn't so simple. His instincts had been telling him something, but if his dear doctor hadn't been aboard, he wouldn't have felt like _this._

In time, Julian came back to the station safe and sound, but with a dark look in his eye, a little grim and very determined. Garak, of course, wasn't going to ask him directly what had happened. Garak would hear about it eventually, one way or another. What Julian needed now, Garak deduced, was normalcy. Or at least enough of it for whatever had happened to unspool naturally in his head. 

He came by just as Garak was closing the shop. "Garak, do you have a minute?" he asked. 

Garak looked him over. He didn't look up to a sparring session in the Replimat, and anything more serious was better done in private. He'd broken into the doctor's before. It seemed to be his turn to be imposed upon. "My quarters?" he asked. 

"Yes, please." 

Once there, they sat in silence for a good few minutes, Garak offering Julian a cool drink to compensate for the heat of his quarters, but giving up his own cup of hot red leaf tea when Julian reached for it instead. 

"You finished The Beekeeper's Apprentice?" Julian asked at last. 

"I did," Garak admitted. "Thank you for lending it to me." He wasn't about to treat this like one of their usual lunchtime discussions. It clearly meant too much to both of them. 

"You remember what they first said to each other, when Russ woke up, after everything?" 

"Of course." 

"'I am glad you're alive.'" 

Garak had no idea why Julian would say that to him, when the doctor was the one who'd been on a dangerous mission to the Gamma quadrant, facing off against the Jem'Hadar. But he suspected the best way to learn would be to say the words Holmes had said next. 

"'Our trap caught its prey, but it nearly took you with it. I had not intended quite such a generous sacrifice.'" 

Julian took a breath, sipped his tea. "We made contact with the Dominion," he said. "We weren't ready. They had us at their mercy. They made me watch you die. They made me believe it was real." 

"Oh, my dear doctor," he said. He didn't understand why Julian cared so much for him, but he knew the feelings were there. "Well. Here I am. Exactly where you left me." 

"Yes," Julian said. "Exactly as I left you." 

What _was_ this? Garak almost wished he hadn't let go of his tea. He wasn't in the habit of fidgeting, of giving in to the weakness of needing something to do with his hands beyond the necessary, but some situations just seemed to call for it. 

Julian's hands, though, did move with nervousness, with hesitation, drumming against the sides of the cup. Then, as though bracing himself, he reached into his bag and pulled out another rod. 

"There's more, you know," he said. He raised his eyebrows, looking a little more alive himself, more like the young doctor Garak had come to know. "This is the second Russell book. A Monstrous Regiment of Women." 

Garak opened his mouth to reply, then frowned. Even with the seriousness and ceremony this book was being given, even greater than the first, he had to ask. "What kind of a title is that?" 

Bashir pouted. "Well, if you're going to be like that..." He made as if to put the rod back. "What kind of a title is 'Meditations on a Crimson Shadow'?" 

Garak sighed theatrically. "Give that here. It can't possibly be as unbearable as the title suggests." 

"It's not unbearable at all. Of course the same can't be said for the book its title was stolen from, but that's an entirely different story. Or rather, regressive political rant." 

Garak held out his hand, raising his eye ridges. 

Julian laid the rod in his hand, the ceremony back in the interaction. "I really do hope you like it, Elim," he said quietly. 

Garak blinked. He'd had no idea Julian even knew that was his name. 

* * *

Garak reared back from the reader as the sentence registered, not ten pages in. 

_"I expect you came to ask me to marry you."_

This was a romance. It was a romance, and he hadn't noticed it happening. And not because of cultural differences he was unaware of, either. In fact, it was almost a Cardassian romance. The mention of marriage had to have seemed as if it came out of nowhere, by human standards. But by Cardassian ones? It shouldn't have been a surprise at all. 

By Cardassian standards, they'd been flirting openly since they met. Russell all of fifteen and spitting brilliant, irritated, backhanded insults from the moment they'd set eyes on each other as if they'd known each other for years, and Holmes not hesitating to return fire. 

Garak had carefully recalibrated his filters for Earth literature to something more resembling human interpretation. He feared now that that had been to underestimate Julian significantly. 

He got up, composed himself, and went to find the doctor, who was probably sound asleep in his quarters after his return from what sounded like a particularly exhausting adventure. He was prepared to break in again, but Julian answered his chime, eyes bright, expectant. 

"What is this?" Garak asked, holding up the padd he'd loaded the book onto. He strode inside as the doctor moved to let him. 

"The second Russ book. I said." 

"And you've read this one yourself?" Garak asked, beginning to pace. 

"Oh, I've read all of them. There are more than twenty." 

"So you knew what you were giving me." 

Julian smiled widely. "Most definitely." 

"You let me prattle on about seeing ourselves in the characters, when we were discussing the two parties in a _romance?_ " 

The look in the doctor's eyes was gently mocking. "Oh, was it not clear that it was a romance?" 

Oh, hell. It was true that it was fair play. Garak had been flirting outrageously with the man steadily for a year and change, counting on Julian's ignorance of Cardassian culture to keep himself safe from any real consequences of the game. This... this simply made it clear that the doctor was onto him. That he understood what they'd been doing. 

"It really should have been," Garak answered with a rueful smile. 

Julian laughed lightly, stepping into Garak's space and placing two heavy, warm hands on his shoulders. "When I saw you again after... what they showed me... I didn't want to waste any more time. I just want you, Elim. All of you that you're willing to share." 

"My dear," said Garak. "I don't know what to say." 

He laughed again, an effervescent sound. "A rare and notable occasion, then," he said. "Shall we celebrate?" 

Garak stepped in closer to the warmth of Julian's arms. "What did you have in mind?" 

Julian kissed him, softly, on the lips. 

It was dizzying. He'd never been touched quite like this before. Carefully, he returned the press of lips enough to convey his agreement, but stopped just short of getting lost in it, pulling back to look at Julian. 

"Really, Doctor? Are you sure about this? You know I'm not..." 

Julian laid a gentle finger on his lips to silence him. "You should finish the book," he said. 

* * *

The two characters went about their own separate lives, working on their own separate problems, only coming back together on occasion but getting so much out of each meeting. That was appealing, so different than the sopping clinginess that he'd been led to believe was the bread and butter of Terran romances. 

Oh, yes. And there was one other thing to be said for Mary Russell. She did appreciate the value of a good tailor. 

The plot was entertaining, even to an old and experienced spy, and he soon found what Julian had sent him in search of. 

_"You do realize how potentially disastrous this whole thing is?" he said. "I am old and set in my ways. I will give you little affection and a great deal of irritation, though heaven knows you're aware of how difficult I can be."_

_"And you smoke foul tobacco and get down in the dumps for days and mess about with chemicals...."_

Garak laughed. That? That was an answer. 

He finished the book, and got up to go and find his darling doctor. 


End file.
